


Silent Nights

by Clemonade



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda, Denial of Feelings, Implied Sexual Content, Other, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26073490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clemonade/pseuds/Clemonade
Summary: Everyone else fawned over him, why should she?
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 81





	Silent Nights

**Author's Note:**

> The one and only @intangiblyyours set an amazing prompt - #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda and then this kind of happened.
> 
> Another source of inspiration was Chaucer. Thanks my dude!
> 
> I wasn't sure on the rating so went for M to be safe... enjoy!

When other people looked at the silent knight, they drowned in the ocean of his eyes and tripped over each other just to get a taste of that salt spray. If they were unfortunate enough to meet him in combat the last thing they saw was that same ocean freeze over in molten ice as the distant echoes from his blade were all that remained marring their skin and assaulting their ears. But when Zelda looked at him she saw what everyone else failed to notice - the tiny scar that made the smile lines threading away from his right eye step out as lightning staggers across the sky. Evidence he had once been a person who smiled freely and lived a life outside of the sword, outside of his duties.

Outside of her.

She noticed how when the wind caught his hair just so, he had a freckle above his left brow that belied the days once spent in the sun no doubt climbing insane rock faces because, why not? Freedoms she had never known. Now he was boxed in by stale castle walls. Now he had to traipse around after her endlessly, ghost her every move, wear that infuriating stoic façade that meant everyone had someone to compare her and her failures to.

_“She doesn’t even care you know, I heard she doesn’t even pray, just locks herself in the Temple and plays on that Slate she’s got.”_

_“Haven’t you noticed how she stares at that guard of hers? I mean I wouldn’t mind worshipping him either but she’s supposed to be saving us all. Can’t see it happening myself, it’s all going to come down to him in the end.”_

_“Speaking of, did you see him sparring this morning? I had to fan myself down just from watching! Glad I’m not on the receiving end of that sword.”_

_“I don’t know, I wouldn’t mind being on the receiving en-“_

Every day. Every day she had to hear the gossip mongers tittering about in the halls, they’d even stopped hushing each other as they used to. Never mind the years of prayer and devotion she had shown to Hylia. And what did they mean that she stares at Link? They were clearly misinterpreting her furtive glares, she is a Princess. And princesses don’t ogle.

Not like them.

They didn’t notice how when he’d return to her chamber doors after his drills he raked his fingers through his unruly locks to try and break them in, they didn’t know how she’d love to be the one who-

Zelda rigidly snapped open the book she had clutched to her chest, inhaling the paper, dust and ink, the momentum of her thoughts abruptly halted. Here she was; walking the smoothed out, well-worn stone hall to her chambers. Where others clutched at rosary beads, Zelda's lifeline was her books.

“Princess, are you well?”

Spine stiffening, her eyes merely rolled to glance over her shoulder, “I’m fine, in fact, I’d like to be left alone for the rest of the evening” A polite dismissal he did not deserve, not after the inconvenience he’s caused her since pulling that thrice damned sword from where it lay. An almost imperceptible bow of his head was all Zelda needed to resume her power walk back to her rooms. She needed as much space between them as possible. He was smothering her with his arrogance, and she needed to breathe.

Flinging open her balcony doors, her stiflingly hot room dissipating with the icy blast of outside. Zelda gently relinquished her book on Silent Princesses to her bedside table, her fingers curled ever so slightly to rasp against the cracked, worn cover. **_I want freckles, I want to not brush my hair for days. Freedom. I need freedom._** A longing sigh, well beyond her years, hotly whipped over her lips. Kneeling next to her bed, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles turned white and her fingers reddened, eyes clenched shut, she felt the heat build behind them and a lump claw its way up her throat. As the tears spilled over onto her hands, she pleaded, “ _Please_. Please help me this time, I’ll do anything if you’ll just show me what to do!” Of its own volition, her left hand shot out, wrenched her beloved book from where it innocuously lay and threw it as hard as she could against her oak door.

“Princess! Are you alright?” Came the voice of one of the other guards who must have replaced Link on duty after she had dismissed him.

“I’m fine, just, dropped something.” Her watery excuse sounded weak even to her, but the guard seemed to believe it as she once again fell into the oppressive quiet of her chambers, her breath misting in front of her face, she crawled beneath her covers.

Kneeling in the frigid waters of the Spring of Wisdom, she recited her prayers to the Goddess through purple lips and teeth that clacked together. _**This time. This time I will hear her**_. Jerking her out of her quiet reverie came a voice seldom heard but one she’d never forget, not in a hundred years.

“What is better than wisdom, Zelda?”

Breath hitching, she froze, not from the cold. A hand, so impossibly warm, it singed her skin as it tilted her head up to meet a gaze that eclipsed the immense statue looming behind him.

“You. And what’s better than you?”

“ _Nothing_ ” escaped her lungs in what could barely pass as a whisper.

Those eyes crinkled into a smile she’d never been graced with before. His hand moved to hers, inviting her to stand as he assumed her place, bent in reverie.

“I have been looking for a place to worship; you put me on my knees every day. Let me worship you like the Goddess you are.”

Threading her hands into those wild locks, she gripped hard and oh, how wonderful it felt to have the control she so craved. Bending to meet his lips, his voice ghosted across her skin, hairs prickling, chills and warmth snaking down her spine all at once. “Just let go, Zelda.”

… “Princess. Princess. Wake up.”

Sandpaper eyes scratched open. Bolting upright, her skin aflame, breaths shallow, “What are YOU doing here?!” she hissed.

His gaze flickered to the ground, scratching the back of his head. She’d never seen him so uncomfortable, so vulnerable.

“I was out climbing. Your balcony doors were open. It’s a hazard. Not to mention how it’s absolutely freezing tonight. I-I came to close them but you were thrashing about. You seemed,” a deep flush spread across his cheeks, to the tips of his pointed ears, “distressed,” he finished, quietly, still unable to meet her gaze, unable to tell her it was his name she had mumbled as a mantra only moments ago.

“Link?” his eyes snapped to hers. She’d never addressed him by his name, though she liked the way it sounded rolling around her tongue. Her room suddenly felt altogether far too hot for anyone to inhabit; the lava of Eldin itself was surely raging beneath her floors.

“Get out.”


End file.
